Love, and Other Things that Hurt
by erisedstraehym
Summary: Love is messy. Draco and Ginny know this. So what could be a better idea than a loveless relationship? After all, they have amazing chemistry. Nobody needs to know. Or course, enemies-with-benefits is a situation easily complicated. Sex is the easy part, but what happens when feelings get involved?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Ginny! Ginny! Gin!"

Ginny Weasley heaved a sigh and very reluctantly slowed her pace to allow Dennis Creevey and Kevin Whitby to catch up to her, panting, in the middle of the Charms corridor.

"Gee," Kevin was attempting to say as he gulped in great breaths of air. "You run pretty fast for a girl."

Dennis elbowed him in the ribs, rendering the mousy little Ravenclaw boy breathless once again.

"Don't call Ginny a girl," Dennis said with contempt, as though the word was offensive to him.

"That's what she is, isn't she?"

"Um, guys," Ginny said quickly in an attempt to intervene. "Did you need something from me? Because I'm in kind of a rush..."

Dennis and Kevin both stopped talking and looked at her. "Oh," Kevin said, glancing at his best friend. "We were just wondering if you were going to Hogsmeade this afternoon."

"Hogsmeade?" Ginny repeated blankly, halting at the corner as Peeves zoomed overhead. She veered off to a shortcut hidden behind a nearby tapestry, pulling the two boys with her by their shirtsleeves.

"Yeah," Dennis said, panting as he and Kevin clambered up the narrow wooden staircase after Ginny, who was eight steps ahead of them. "We're all going and we were wondering if, you know, you weren't busy, you might want to - "

"Who's all?" Ginny asked, suspicion arising in the back of her mind as she emerged into a Peeves-free sixth floor corridor.

"Oh, you know," Dennis said as he and Kevin toppled out of the passage and into a heap on the floor, wheezing. Ginny, conceding temporary defeat, stopped walking and stood before them with her hands on her hips. "Kevin and me, obviously, and then Euan, Jonathan, Mikey, Stephen...Colin..." At this, Kevin and Dennis gave Ginny significant looks.

She suppressed a sigh with difficulty, spun around, and began walking fast again.

"He says he would like it if you came!" Dennis called after her.

That was no wonder. Colin Creevey had been pursuing Ginny since they were twelve years old, and no amount of "No" seemed to deter him from his goal. Dennis and Kevin, his willing accomplices in this goal, were often the vehicles he used to try and coax Ginny into eventually saying yes, whatever it took. Ginny was too used to the hints Kevin and Dennis threw at her to be fooled that this invitation was anything other than one more attempt on Colin's part to date her.

"No thanks, Dennis!" Ginny called over her shoulder. "Maybe next time."

And before either of the younger boys could respond, Ginny turned the corner and sped up further, glancing at her watch. It was quarter to noon, which meant she was already late.

The fifth-floor door was slightly ajar when she reached it, and she slid inside with her back to the room.

"You're late."

Ginny pulled the door shut, but before she could turn around, a pair of arms clamped hard around her waist. She struggled, but the hands on her stomach merely tightened. With an impatient sigh, she reached her hands behind her as though blindly trying to find something out of her reach.

The arms tightened still more. "Red," the voice said in a low, amused tone. "Are you trying to tickle me?"

Ginny crossed her arms across her chest, pouting. "I'm only fifteen minutes late. You don't have to be so damn sensitive."

She inhaled sharply as her captor's lips found her throat, moving slowly and torturously down her collarbone and nibbling softly upwards again to her ear. "You have some nerve, calling me sensitive," the voice breathed in her ear. The hands, without loosening their grip on Ginny's body, began sliding up the front of her button-down top. "I am cold and heartless, Weasley."

Though she was becoming lightheaded with pleasure, Ginny played along.

"I know better than that ," Ginny said, trying to sound teasing, though the effect was ruined slightly by the little sigh of appreciation that slurred the last word as a finger traced her navel and kisses began traveling down her jawline, accompanied by the flick of a tongue. "You talk tough, but you're just a marshmallow inside."

There was a small chuckle in her ear. Then, without warning, Ginny was thrown off her feet, spun in midair, and landed hard on top of the parchment strewn desk at the front of the small classroom. Ginny's gasp was silenced as a mouth came down on hers, forcing every coherent thought from her mind.

When she opened her eyes, Draco was leaning over her with a smirk. "Well?" he inquired coolly.

"You are a cold, heartless bastard," Ginny said breathlessly. "Come here."

Ginny had never made out on a teacher's desk before, but she had to admit, it was interesting. In fact, by the time Draco's hands moved down her body from her hair and began unbuttoning her top, she was so turned on that the fact that they were in an unlocked and highly used classroom was really the furthest thing from her mind.

"So, Weasley," Draco murmured against her freckled skin as he moved his lips to her neck. "Why were you late by the way? You are aware of how jealous I can get. And I have dangerously low self esteem..."

"You have the highest self-esteem of anyone I've ever met," Ginny said scornfully, tilting back her head to offer him more skin to kiss. "I was talking to McGonagall about cross-species Transfiguration and then Dennis and Kevin showed up and they were asking me questions about something or other - "

"Really," Draco said, rolling his eyes and nipping playfully at her shoulder. "Dim and Dimmer. I have this theory that they plan to corner you in an empty corridor one day, Imperio you, and force you to become the other Creevey kid's love slave. I can definitely see it happening."

"Less talk," Ginny said, her voice growing impatient and breathless. "More - mmmmm."

"This is nice," Draco commented lazily, trailing his lips across Ginny's lacy green bra. "Is it new?"

"Mum...sent it to me," Ginny gasped, leaning her head back as Draco's hands moved farther south on her body. "Said she thought...it would go well...with my hair."

"I quite agree," Draco said, sounding amused again as Ginny began wriggling around under him, clearly anxious to resume lip-locking. "Nice color, too. I approve. Thank Molly on my behalf, will you?"

"Shut up," Ginny said, her impatience intensifying. "Can you get up here, please? I'm not done kissing you."

Next moment, Ginny experienced the sensation of falling from an immense height as, mercifully, Draco's mouth found hers again, his tongue sliding into her mouth. As Ginny threaded her arms around his neck, voices floated in from the corridor.

Ginny didn't have a chance to react. In what seemed to be one motion, Draco rolled her over and into his arms and leapt them both behind the desk just as the knob on the door began turning.

"This is the Gobstones Club meeting, isn't it, Shirley?" said a high-pitched voice from the corridor. A gaggle of first-year Hufflepuffs peeked inside the apparently empty classroom, looking anxious. Ignoring Ginny's disapproving look, Draco pointed his wand under the desk towards the door, muttered, "Confundo!" and almost at once looks of bewilderment crossed the faces of the eleven year olds. They looked at each other before withdrawing from the room. As the footsteps grew fainter, Ginny and Draco distinctly heard one of the first years say vaguely, "Fancy a game of chess?"

The others murmured in agreement.

The voices faded away. Ginny turned to Draco with plans of admonishing him, but her plans were banished as he leaned down and kissed her so hard that it left her lips feeling bruised and tingly.

"You were saying?" Draco said smugly as Ginny gave a contented sigh, snuggling into his chest and pressing her lips to his pale neck.

"Don't think you won't be getting a full lecture on why it's bad to hex first years later," Ginny assured him, reaching down to re-button her shirt. "But I don't have the heart to yell at you right now."

"That's surprising," Draco said dryly, looking on in displeasure as Ginny re-clothed herself. "You know, I wasn't done with that."

"I think we're going to have to reschedule," Ginny said, planting a kiss on his cheek and jumping up. "It's a Hogsmeade weekend, remember?"

"All the more reason to take advantage of an empty castle," Draco pointed out irritably, getting slowly to his feet. "I haven't seen you in more than a week."

Ginny felt a pang of guilt, which intensified as Draco shook of the arms that she tried to put around him. "I know it's hard to find time...for us," she said soothingly as he began pacing the classroom, not looking at her. "But what am I going to tell everyone if I don't show up for a Hogsmeade weekend?"

Draco didn't respond. After another long minute, he stopped pacing and looked at her, a hard expression in his steel-grey eyes.

"You haven't come at night either," he said, his voice low. Ginny though she could detect a hint of accusation. "Not for days."

Again, the nagging guilt. "Draco, I'm sorry," she said, a note of desperation in her own voice. "I've had so much homework and the girls are getting suspicious...I'm just trying to hold it all together. There's a lot going on."

"I see."

There was a silence. Ginny hated when there was a silence between them...they were usual so compatible that there was never a chance for an awkward or truly angry moment. Ginny walked over to him and forced him to look at her.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No."

"Liar."

"Blood traitor."

They scowled at each other. Ginny gave in first.

"I refuse to fight with you right now," she said, her voice softening. "I've missed you too much. I hate how things are, but we have to make the best of it. We're here now, we're together - isn't that enough?"

He wasn't looking at her, but he seemed to be listening. After yet another painful silence, he sighed almost inaudibly and pulled Ginny close to him, leaning his head on hers. She sighed too as she pressed the side of her face to his chest. No matter what was happening in her life, this was where she felt safe.

In the arms of a Slytherin. Who'd have thought?

He tipped up her chin and kissed her until she was dizzy.

"Have fun in Hogsmeade, Red," he muttered in her ear. "Give Potter my love."

Before she could give a sarcastic response, he had smirked and disappeared out the door.

A few carefully timed minutes later, she left in the opposite direction.

"Ginevra, darling!"

Wearily, Ginny turned around at the bottom of the winding staircase to the Entrance Hall to answer the sound of her name. When she was who was calling her, she grinned.

Harmony Barlow grabbed Ginny in a hug that nearly knocked both of them down the stairs.

"Ow," Ginny said as she caught her balance by seizing the railing with both hands. "Are you trying to kill me, sweetie? What's going on?"

"Oh, ya know," the dark-haired girl said in her American drawl, waving her hand in theatrical explanation. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Harlow, we sleep in the same dormitory," Ginny pointed out. "We live together for five sixths of the year."

"I know that," Harlow said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "But y'all always seem like you're on a different planet these days. You're always doing schoolwork or daydreaming or sleeping or disappearing, I dunno. I'm just worried about you, honey doll. We all are. And you haven't been coming to dinner lately either. What's up with that?"

Ginny felt a flush creeping up her neck. Usually other hungers were being satisfied at mealtimes, assisted by a certain other student often mutually absent from the Great Hall.

"Lots of homework," Ginny said weakly. She wondered vaguely what she was doing wrong so that her friends felt neglected, her boyfriend felt abandoned, and her homework still seemed to be accumulating. Clearly she needed a better system.

"Harlow, have you seen - " began Hermione's voice as she hurried down the stairs, but she broke off when she saw Ginny. "Oh! Hi, Ginny. Have you seen your brother?"

"Uh, no," Ginny said, glancing at the armful of heavy-looking books in the older girl's arms. "Not coming to the village, I gather?"

"Well," Hermione sighed, shifting her arms which looked like they were falling asleep under the weight of literature they bore. "Ron said he needed help with his Potions essay, so I figured we could stay behind and...you know, catch up with our schoolwork."

"Right," Harlow smirked, causing Hermione to blush pink. "Schoolwork. Whatever you say, 'Mi."

"What are we talking about?" chirped a melodic voice from behind them, and they all turned just as Linnéa Decoulter joined their circle on the side of the staircase.

"Hermione's extracurricular activities with Ronald," Harlow declared sweetly, evoking giggles from Linnéa and Ginny and a scandalized gasp from Hermione.

"Honestly, Harlow," Hermione said, recovering herself and re-adjusting the books in her arms with renewed dignity. "It's just studying. There's not need for the indecent insinuations."

"This may be news to you," Linnéa added as Harlow rolled her eyes. "But Britain is very different from America in that respect. Not every homework session is code for a snog and a shag."

"People have needs," Harlow insisted with a grin. "Say what you will, Hermione. I hope the studying is...satisfactory."

"If I can even find him," Hermione said with a sigh, pointedly ignoring the chorus of snorts that followed the previous comment. "Well, have fun. See you at dinner."

As they descended into the crowded Entrance Hall to register their names with Filch, Ginny found herself glancing from face to face, looking for one in particular. But she wasn't particularly surprised at the absence of platinum hair and stormy grey eyes among the people milling around the hall, chattering.

"Ginny," Linnéa said cautiously as they began traipsing through the grounds. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Ginny responded in an automatic, yet convincing tone. "Why do you ask?"

When the other two didn't respond, she looked up and saw that in her lack of attention, her feet had led her fifteen yards in the wrong direction.

"Oh!" Ginny said, startled, and she hurried to rejoin her friends, who were looking at her with bemused concern. "Er. That was weird. Sorry."

But she could tell that her huge forced smile wasn't fooling anyone. Luckily, it was only a few seconds later, before Harlow or Linnéa could say anything, that a distraction arrived in the form of Neville.

"Hey, Longbottom," Harlow said affectionately as the round faced boy hurried over to them, coming from the direction they were heading to, looking a mixture of distressed and relieved. "What's up?"

"Hi, Harmony. Hi, Ginny." Neville turned scarlet as his eyes moved over the third girl. "Hi, Linnéa."

"Hi, Neville," Linnéa said in her melodic English voice, flashing him a smile. He turned, if possible, a deeper shade of red. Harlow gave Ginny an amused look.

"Neville, honey," she said, the South-Western in her voice highlighted by the laughter it held. "You just dropped your jaw."

Ginny gave her a sharp look and Neville giggled nervously. "Sorry," he mumbled, and Linnéa tactfully became exceedingly interested in a strand of her own honey blond hair. Apparently recovering himself with some difficulty, Neville shook his head as though trying to rid his head of water, and turned to Ginny, the tips of his ears still pink.

"Anyway, I was looking for you, Ginny," he said. "Erm. It's just - "

"Ginny?"

Willing herself not to sigh, Ginny turned to see Harry running up the hill that led to Hogsmeade, his glasses falling off, looking thoroughly confused.

"What's going on?" he asked as he reached their group, looking at each face in turn before settling on Ginny's.

"We were just wondering the same thing," Harlow said dryly. "Continue, Neville."

Neville hesitated as a posse of babbling Ravenclaw girls passed, and he leaned forward and said in Ginny's ear, "It's - it's Colin."

Uh oh.

"What about Colin?" Ginny asked, a little more sharply than she had intended.

"He's - " Neville began, but he looked at Harry, clearly seeking assistance, and Harry nodded in response to Ginny's look of bewildered disbelief.

"He's in the Three Broomsticks," Harry offered helpfully. "He's telling everyone that he's waiting for you because you two have a date."

"You're joking," Linnéa said, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"Nope," Neville confirmed, jumping back into the conversation with renewed eagerness at Linnéa's re-entrance. "That's why I came to find you. I mean, I wasn't sure...I just didn't think...you and Colin..."

"That little twerp," Harlow said, though she sounded as though she was trying not to laugh. "He's really gone to the next level with his - Ginny?"

Ginny had begun stomping down the hill without the others, her long red hair whipping around her face in the spring breeze. "Unbelievable," she muttered irritably, pushing her hair away as the other four hurried to catch up to her. "This is ridiculous."

"Don't freak out," Harlow advised, linking her arm through Ginny's. "Just calmly walk in, calmly seek out his table, calmly sit down, and ever-so-calmly let him know that you were not aware of this 'engagement' between you two. And furthermore, that you don't appreciate the gossip he is spreading around."

"This doesn't sound like Colin," Harry said doubtfully as they came into sight of the village, running his hand through his untidy black hair. "I mean, sure, he's a little interfering and relentless. But he's not stupid enough to lie about having a date with you, Ginny. Maybe we're missing the facts."

"What facts?" Harlow scoffed. "The kid is mad for our Ginevra. Clearly he's done his nut and I reckon he's gone right over the edge."

"Harmony!" Linnéa squealed as they approached the Hogsmeade high street. "You sounded so British right then!"

"Maybe there's hope for you after all," Harry added.

Harlow beamed.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, but Ginny spotted Colin at once. He was at a table near the back, accompanied by Euan Abercrombie and a gaggle of other second-year boys. As soon as they spotted her, Euan's jaw dropped and he nudged Colin, causing everyone to turn and gape open-mouthed at Ginny as she approached the table.

"I can't believe he was telling the truth!" Ginny heard one tiny red-haired boy squeak as she stopped in front of Colin, who was staring up at her with glazed eyes, looking somewhat dazed at her presence.

"Hi, Ginny," he said breathlessly. "Did you want to sit down?" He glanced around at his friends, all of whom were gazing wide-eyed at the scene. "They were just leaving."

"Actually, Colin," Ginny said, counting to ten silently while working hard to keep her teeth unclenched. She had just noticed the absence of two prominent individuals in Colin's circle of friends, and it seemed to confirm her suspicions as to where the hell this particular rumor that seemed to be circulating was coming from. "Could I have a word with you? In...private?" she added as a pointed afterthought, because Euan Abercrombie seemed almost to be quivering in anticipation.

Before he could respond, Ginny grabbed Colin's wrist and yanked him away from the table. When they were out of earshot of the curious boys, Ginny rounded on him.

"What is going on?" she demanded in an undertone, pulling him aside further as several tall African men in orange turbans traipsed serenely by. "Why are you telling everyone we have a date?"

Colin looked genuinely taken aback. "Because we do!" he said, his voice rising in pitch while dropping in volume, making him sound, as well as look, closer to ten years old than sixteen. "One o'clock, the Three Broomsticks!"

"Really," Ginny said in an irate tone, though as she ran over the facts in her head, she had the distinct feeling that the older Creevey boy may indeed be innocent. "I don't recall discussing this with you."

"Well," Colin said after a moment of mulling this over. "Well. Er, you didn't...not exactly."

"I see," Ginny said, putting her hand on her forehead. "So I was supposed to have telepathically RSVP'd to our - date?"

"Erm, no," Colin said uneasily. "Kevin and Dennis just told me...because they had talked to you about it...earlier today?" He looked up at her in trepidation.

"Oh, really," Ginny said, grinding her teeth so hard she could hear the enamel scraping together. "Where is your dear brother, incidentally?"

"Honeydukes, I think," Colin said, looking distressed. "So, does that mean...you didn't know? So you didn't say yes after all?"

"Colin," Ginny said, trying to keep her voice patient and soothing. "We've had this discussion before. I like you. But as a friend. I'm not interested in dating you because...dating is complicated. Friendships are fun. The reason I always say no to your invitations of a - an outing - is because I don't want to lead you on. Can you understand that?"

"Yeah," Colin said with a long-suffering sigh. "But Ginny, do you think there's a chance that...maybe in the future?"

"I dunno," Ginny said with a sigh of her own, too weary to spend time denying what the future would bring. "We'll see, Colin. But for future reference, don't count on a date when the other party hasn't mentioned it to you personally, OK?"

"OK," Colin said, still looking highly put-out. "Did you want to come and sit with us anyway? Just as friends?" he hastened to add.

"Next time, Colin," Ginny said, patting the shorter boy on the back. "I would love to, but I have two small...problems to deal with. I'll see you later."

Two very small problems indeed. Little brats. She was going to murder them.

"How did it go?" Harlow demanded as Ginny joined she, Linnéa and Neville on the street that they had just emerged onto from Zonko's. Harry, who was not present, had apparently taken off back to the castle shortly after Ginny had disappeared into the Three Broomsticks to find Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, fine," Ginny said vaguely, leading the way and scanning the sidewalks for the huge gold sign that announced Honeydukes. "Just a little miscommunication."

"Miscommunication?" Linnéa echoed. "What does that mean?"

"It means that we...miscommunicated," Ginny said absently. "Ah ha!"

Neville, Linnéa, and Harlow exchanged looks as Ginny sprinted through the entrance to Honeydukes, disappearing in a crowd of people.

"Would it kill her to give us some real information before dashing off like a maniac?" Harlow grumbled. "She's starting to act more and more like Hermione every day."

Despite the density of human bodies inside the sweetshop, it was not long before Ginny spotted two mousy heads bobbing over by the Bertie Botts's Every Flavor Beans display by the far frosted window.

"DENNIS!"

The two boys jumped and turned around, both looking fearful. When they saw Ginny pushing her way towards them looking something less than thrilled, they exchanged glances and promptly bolted, dropping armfuls of sweets as they ran.

"Hi, Neville. Hi, Harlow. Hi, Linnéa," the boys said mechanically with identical fleeting grins as they shot past the three standing outside, who all waved in some bewilderment before turning to see Ginny running out of the store and following Dennis and Kevin up the street.

"What in Merlin's name -" Neville began, but Ginny merely called, "Be right back!" before disappearing around a corner, in hot pursuit of the two twelve year olds.

Dennis and Kevin made it all the way back up the high street before Ginny caught them.

"Ow, ow, ow!" the boys squeaked as she grabbed them by their collars to prevent them from fleeing.

"Have mercy!" Kevin implored in a high-pitched voice, shielding his face with his hands.

"Pray, spare us your unholy wrath!" Dennis added.

"Har har har," Ginny growled, sounding more like Hagrid than herself. "Mind telling me what the bloody hell goes on in those empty heads of yours besides the passive growth of fungi?"

"That's harsh," Kevin said, looking legitimately injured. "I'm a Ravenclaw!"

"Aw, c'mon, Gin," Dennis said with the air of trying to convey the purest of intentions. "Give Colin a break. He really likes you."

"I am aware of that," Ginny said, lowering her voice and loosening her grip on Kevin and Dennis as two elderly witches passing gave her disapproving and suspicious looks. "And I'm flattered. Just like I was when he asked me out in second year. But, and I know that you two know this, I have never said anything but 'no' when he has asked me out over the past four years. I made it clear to him, and YOU two that I only want to be friends with Colin."

"Well, the last time was more than three weeks ago," Kevin pointed out. "You could've changed your mind since then."

"Yeah," Dennis piped up, his voice growing muffled as his cloak, which Ginny was still holding fast too, began to slide up and over his face. "And anyway, what do you have to lose by going out with him once or twice? You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

Both boys lapsed into giggles at the word.

"I am not having this discussion with you," Ginny snapped, releasing them so that they fell in a heap on the dusty gravel road. "And next time, mind your own damn business. One more covert set up and I will employ a Permanent Sticking Charm to assure that both your faces are obscured with flying bogeys for the rest of your lives."

"Geeee-neee has a boyyyyfriend, Geeee-neee has a boyyyyfriend," Dennis and Kevin sing-songed after her in a gleeful warbling duet as she turned on her heel and stalked away. Locating every ounce of self-restraint she possessed and seizing onto it with an iron grip, she ignored them, and returned down the street to where Neville, Linnéa and Harlow were waiting, with pocketfuls of Chocolate Frogs and sugar quills.

"Would you care to fill us in on your tangled love life?" Harlow asked exasperatedly as Ginny approached them.

"Apparently, I am the victim of a hookup, courtesy of Whitby and Creevey Jr.," Ginny said dryly as they began walking as a group towards the bookshop. Neville, whose eyes were following the process of Linnéa's swaying hips, did not seem to be paying attention, but Harlow and Linnéa looked extremely interested in the details. "Dennis and Kevin told Colin I would show up in the assumption that I eventually would."

"And with the assumption that you would go through with it," Linnéa added, looking town between vexation and amusement. "Poor Colin. He has liked you for a long time."

"Since first their eyes met," Harlow sighed, letting her hand flutter to her chest with a theatrical sigh. "You'd think he would give up after six years."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Ginny insisted. "C'mon. I need some new parchment."

Three hours later, as they traipsed back through the grounds for dinner, Ginny found herself over-thinking, something she often caught herself doing whenever she had too much crammed in her brain, a frequent problem that she had yet to find a solution to. She hated the idea of a Pensieve; how on earth was she supposed to explain certain memories involving a certain Malfoy boy if someone were to steal her memories and delve into them without her permission or knowledge? A diary was out of the question as well; she couldn't even stand seeing them in the shops after all that had occurred during her first year.

So Ginny merely thought, and thought and thought and thought. About Colin, how he had always been so hopeful that if he persisted, she would eventually say yes. About Dennis and Kevin, whom she had had a strange friendship with since they had come to Hogwarts and immediately become allies to Colin on his quest to date Ginny. About Neville, and his hopeless infatuation with Linnéa, who in turn had always had a thing for Harry. About the three and a half foot essay on fucking giant wars, which she hadn't even begun researching and which was due on Monday.

But mostly about Draco.

Dinner was divine as always; a small feast of roast chicken, shredded potatoes, buttered peas, and crusty French bread. However, even Ginny's legendary Weasley appetite didn't seem to be requesting sustenance, and everything on the table looked unappetizing. Eventually, she gave up on the food and just dragged her fork across her plate, only half-listening to her friends chatter away.

"We've gone through this all afternoon," Hermione was saying patiently to Ron as she took a second helping of potatoes. "The sixteenth law states that antidotes have a thirty seven point four percent success rate, even without the basic central neutralizer. It's a proven fact."

"But that doesn't make any sense!' Ron protested, shoving his Potions book under her nose. "That completely conflicts with the twelfth law. The properties are only attracted toward other magical compounds with unbalanced make-ups, Hermione. If the magical implementation structure - "

"Who cares?" Harlow interrupted, reaching across the table for Ginny's uneaten bread. "This advanced potions shit is useless. You get poisoned, swallow a bezoar. What's the big freaking deal?"

"It's the principle," Hermione said, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Ron, the stability is all relative. According to Golpalott's eighth law - "

Ginny tuned out.

Casually, she shifted her chair so that her view of the far Slytherin table was not obscured by the Hufflepuffs. She scanned the mass of silver and green ties and scarves amidst the black of the Hogwarts robes and felt a pang when one individual seemed to be missing.

"Ginevra," Harlow said, leaning over and looking at Ginny with a frown. "You okay, sugarpie? You look kind of nauseated."

She nodded and forced up the corners of her mouth in a smile. "Just tired," she said in a convincingly offhand voice. "You know. From walking around all day."

After dinner, Ginny went back to the common room with Harlow and Linnéa, her heart heavy. They hadn't made plans to meet at dinner, so where the hell was he anyway? They had a system to make their - relationship work, and part of that system involved him not making her stress at his absence during mealtimes.

She knew it was ridiculously juvenile and insecure, but she wondered inwardly if maybe someone else had missed dinner with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The evening wore on in a usual fashion; Ginny played Exploding Snap with Neville and Ron, pointedly ignoring Dennis and Kevin, who were motioning frantically for her to join them with their friends Jonathan Strubble, Stephen Morris, and Mikey Bradshaw. It pained Ginny to see the wistful looks Neville kept shooting at Linnéa, who was sprawled in an armchair with her Ancient Runes book, chatting with Hermione. Harlow, who was lying on the floor to observe the Exploding Snap game, gave Ginny a look that told her that she was not the only one who noticed that Neville's face lit up whenever Linnéa laughed.

When Colin came in from dinner, he gave Ginny a hesitant smile, and she returned it with a genuine one. Thankfully, he didn't come over as he usually did to babble about nothing in particular or, Merlin forbid, try and take Ginny's picture as she frequently caught him doing.

Something nagged at the back of Ginny's mind however, and despite the number of deep breaths she took, the number of times she willed herself to calm down, she couldn't relax.

Where had he been?

Ginny realized she sounded like a suspicious wife whose husband had come home late one night, but as her whining was in her own head, she didn't really care. In her head, she didn't have to act indifferent. And, goddammit, she was going to be jealous if it suited her.

By eleven o'clock, everyone had headed up to bed in anticipation of the early morning Monday would bring. It took about a half hour for the sixth year girl's dormitory to quiet down, and only when Ginny was sure that Harlow was sleeping did she slip quietly out of bed and down the staircase, pulling a dressing gown over her nightdress.

Passing through the silent common room, she cast a quick Disillusionment charm over herself and slipped out of the portrait hole, her heart thumping at the prospect of where she was going.

It really wasn't fair, she thought to herself as she crept down the dark and empty corridors, that the arrogant jerk managed to send her heart into overdrive even when he wasn't there.

The Room of Requirement appeared with little coaxing, just as it always did. Ginny slipped inside, lifting the Charm that concealed her and surveying the dark room in which she was definitely alone.

But it was not for long.

When the door opened again less than ten minutes later, Ginny was sitting on the edge of the huge sprawling bed in the center of the room in her nightdress, her knees hugged to her chest. She looked up just as the door closed and the room was put into darkness once more.

For a long moment, there was complete silence as the new arrival stood motionless in the dark. Then, with a sudden whooshing sound like a burst of wind, the lamps on either side of the bed lit themselves apparently of their own accord, and Ginny saw Draco standing near the closed door. He wore a dark shirt and trousers, his silvery hair illuminated by the dim glow of the light that warmed the corners of the small chamber.

"Hi," Ginny said softly. She wanted to say more, to apologize for earlier, to get angry that he hadn't been at dinner, but before she could summon any words at all, he moved first. He reached the bed so quickly that Ginny inhaled sharply with shock; it was as though he had somehow materialized beside her.

He reached his hand out to cup her face, and Ginny eagerly leaned forward in anticipation of kissing. However, Draco merely ran his eyes over her face, his body staying completely motionless. Just when Ginny was about to speak again, he suddenly wrapped his arms around her, crushing her body against his. Her heart slamming against her ribcage as those familiar arms encircled her, Ginny immediately pulled herself closer to him, snaking her arms around his neck until they were entwined in each other, and Draco buried his face in her hair.

"Hi," he murmured in her ear, his breath on her skin making her shiver. His hands began running up and down her back, and the warmth of him through the thin cotton fabric of her nightdress furthered the tingling sensation shooting through her nerves. She nuzzled into his neck, pressing her lips to the cool hollow of his throat, her fingers moving down to tug impatiently at his collar. He smirked before drawing back from her and pulling off the shirt, tossing it to the floor.

Ginny felt this was a suspicious move on his part, as Draco usually made it a point to make sure that Ginny's clothes came off faster than his own, but she wasn't about to complain; not when the icy cool smell of him was intoxicating her like Firewhiskey, and she felt that only-too-familiar craving for him that built up in his absence.

"Frisky, tonight, are you?" Draco said in amusement as Ginny pushed him horizontal and climbed on top of him, trailing kisses down his neck, sucking gently on his skin as she worked her way down to his bare sculpted chest.

"Are you...complaining?" Ginny inquired between kisses, running her hands down the length of his body. "We could...always...just go to sleep."

"OK," Draco said, running his fingers through her hair. "Goodni - whoa."

Swiftly, Draco's trousers were cast aside and Ginny dragged her mouth back up his body to nip at his chin. She gave him an impish grin before swooping down and pressing her mouth to his cheek. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"We haven't been together in more than a week," she said pointedly, tracing her finger across the waistband of his boxers and raising her own eyebrows.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," he said wryly, pulling his fingers slowly through her hair as he studied her flushed, impatient face. "I'm just a little taken aback at how eager you seem to get me naked. Isn't the whole ripping-off-the-clothes-in-a-fury-of-passion thing generally my job?"

"Well, you don't seem too fussed about whether I'm naked or not," Ginny said, annoyed, as he played with the thin strap of her nightdress. "Usually you have my clothing in a heap before we even hit the bed. Now you're carrying on like a monk and making me feel like a preteen nymphomaniac."

"Mmm, I kind of like it this way," Draco teased, and Ginny stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. "Christ's sake, Weasley, I'm kidding." He pulled her closer to him until their faces were half an inch apart. "You know how much I enjoy you when you're naked."

At this point, Ginny was sure he was going to tease her all night, and she would fall into an unsatisfied and fully-clothed sleep after hours of him kissing but not kissing her and touching but not touching her. However, just as she was going to concede defeat, she spotted a mischievous gleam in his eyes, and he swiftly rolled them over so that his body was suspended above hers. Ginny let out a tiny moan of satisfaction as he pushed his mouth onto hers, but before her tongue could seek entrance, he had pulled away again.

"Draco!" she complained.

"I'll be back," he assured her with a cheeky grin. Ginny was about to inquire further when the hands that had just traveled down her sides began sliding up her thighs under the hem of her nightdress.

"Oh, God," she choked through a sharp gasp as he bent his head to her exposed collarbone and began dragging his tongue across it, leaving the spots he touched to burn on Ginny's skin.

"'Draco' will be sufficient," he murmured against her skin. "Though I'm quite certain that if you decide to start a religion centered around me, you won't be hard-put for membership."

"Arrogant prat," she breathed, arching up her neck so he had better access to her throat and gripping the bedspread tightly as one hand slid up her gown to the curve of her breast while the other traced the lacy edges of her panties. "Oh. Oh. Ohh. What are you doing?"

"Well," Draco said, pausing in the act of creating a pattern of purple bruises on Ginny's neck with his mouth. "You seem to be in doubt of how completely fucking shaggable you are, Red. I'm just trying to refresh your memory."

"Or shagging fuckable," Ginny pointed out, though she was having difficulty with the formation of normal speech as Draco's tongue moved over her clothed chest, rendering the fabric nearly translucent. "As...ohmigoodness...Harlow would...say..."

"Weasley," Draco murmured as he glanced up at her, a smirking smile curving his lips. "You are completely and totally shagging fuckable."

"Do you tell all your girlfriends that?" Ginny asked with a contented sigh just before his mouth met hers again, and the explosion of flavor that was the taste of him ignited her senses. When he finally drew back, both his rainstorm eyes and her cinnamon ones were smoldering, and Ginny could feel the hardness of him through his boxers against her bare thigh.

"I want you," Ginny told him quietly, a note of naughtiness that was unfamiliar to her lingering in the air between them.

"Then you're lucky," he responded, his blue-grey irises burning into hers. "Because you've got me."

Her head spun wildly as he slowly dragged down the straps of her nightdress to pull it down off of her legs and slid off her to let his eyes travel over the length of her body. There had been a time when Ginny felt self-conscious at this, a thin scrap of fabric between her legs the only concealment she had from his lingering gaze, the gaze that she knew had seen the bodies of many girls before her. His eyes moved from her body to her eyes, and Ginny didn't think. She just nodded.

He buried his face in her neck and whispered words that she couldn't hear, but his tone was clear enough. She blushed furiously when he called her sexy in her ear, a simple compliment that was so rare in the sneering dynamics of their relationship. He slid down to run his mouth over her breast and she panted like an anxious puppy until he mercifully reached down and, with the smallest of hesitations, dragged off her damp knickers.

She always watched him as he sat up to slide his boxers off, stretching the waistband to allow passage over his stiff hardness, kicking them to the floor with his eyes fixed on hers. In the dim light of the Room of Requirement, this bedchamber that materialized for them so that they could be together without the restrictions of their House, Ginny wanted every piece of Draco, and wanted to surrender every piece of herself in return.

He started slowly, leaning down so that their faces were nearly touching, and as he entered her, a tremor ran through Ginny's body, making her start. Not wanting to see a question in his eyes, she pressed her body up to his, arching to meet him, and established the quick, easy rhythm that was always so natural for them. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and cried out when she came, but she held onto him tightly until she felt his release inside her. He didn't make a sound but swiftly kissed her so long and hard that finally she had to break away, gasping for breath.

Ginny didn't want him to leave her, so she locked her legs around him, ignoring the laughter on his face as she moved to kiss him again, sucking hard on his top lip.

Sex with Draco had always been amazing, particularly because their explosive chemistry made her orgasm come like an earthquake, even on their first time. But Ginny loved this moment, when they were as close and connected as two humans could be, and she saw that aching passion she had for him reflected in his own eyes.

They lay they for a few minutes afterwards in silence, feet tangled in the covers, their slick naked bodies nestled together under the sheets.

"I came," Ginny informed him in a whisper after she had regained control of her breathing.

"I know," he muttered back, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. "I can tell when you do, Red. The whimper of ecstasy is usually sort of a giveaway."

"Oh, really?" she responded in an undertone, smiling to herself and tracing her finger along the contours of his chest. "How do you know I'm not faking?"

"Please. I know when you're faking too."

"What?" Ginny regarded him in the lamplight in indignation as he met her gaze calmly. "I have never faked it!"

Smirk. "Precisely."

"I hate you," she sighed. "But, you know...that was..."

"I think 'wow' is the term you're looking for," Draco said lazily, nipping her neck playfully.

"Mmm. Wow."

"We should meet like this more often," he commented as he casually kneaded her breast with his palm, making her moan in his ear. "I think I'm liking my Gryffindor nympho."

"Shut up," she said with a blissful sigh as he hugged her to him, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I just really needed this tonight. Needed...you. It's so hard being apart and having to sneak around like star-cross'd lovers."

"Is that what we are?" he asked with benign interest. "Sounds dramatic and forbidden."

"It is," Ginny said with a smile. "Just like you.

They lay together quietly for a while longer, until Ginny turned to look at him and he, returning her gaze, bent down to kiss her, slowly and so gently that Ginny felt hesitant to respond until he sucked on her lower lip. When he looked at her again, inquiry in his glance, she nodded imperceptibly and without a moment's hesitation. He waved his hands so that the lamps were extinguished, then claimed her mouth with his again.

They made love in the dark, their bodies melded together, their ragged breathing penetrating the silence of the room. Draco moved inside her, her hips aligned with his, and she knew that he was pacing himself on purpose this time, torturously prolonging the end. Finally she had to beg him, whispering his name as her fingernails bit into his broad, chiseled shoulders.

He came first, sending vibrations through her nerve endings, but he kept moving with her until she arched up her back and whimpered, and she was repeating his name, again and again; Draco. Draco. Draco. Ginny came with such a staggering intensity that she cried out, her voice spiraling upwards, and she felt his weight on her as he relaxed his body and kissed her all over her face, lingering on her swollen lips as she tried to pull him still closer.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of their tongues exploring each other's mouths, their hands wandering freely, Draco rolled off of her, pulling her to his side so she could lay her head on his chest. She hugged him tightly with her arm around his waist and he played with her hair, and gradually their breathing returned to normal.

In a detached way, Ginny thought of sex with Michael, back when she was fourteen, barely a teenager, and he had taken her virginity one quiet afternoon on a corner of the grounds, the only place they could be alone. She had never come, never felt any real enjoyment of the act, but she did it to make him happy, following his whispered directives in her ear, experimenting, and feeling relief when he came; it became a job, and when their relationship ended, her body had never ached for his. With Dean, it had been better, because she had been a little older, and knew what boys liked, what they wanted from her, what to do with her body to make theirs go mad for her. It had been pleasant enough, but Dean had had no idea how to get her off, and it was, once more, a one-sided experience. To Ginny, sex was something that she participated in, but seemed to experience from the sidelines. She was good at it, as far as she knew, but nobody knew how to be good to her.

And then there was Draco, who, even after nearly eight months of sexual exploration between them, managed to make every orgasm mind-blowing to the point that all Ginny could do was cry out. Every time was like their first time, wrought with all the passion and fiery energy and need of two lovers who have been craving each other for so long but had been denied. Yet, even so, their first time had not been a fumbling catastrophe of hesitant motions and awkward touches - as Ginny remembered it, her orgasms (all three of them) had given her the feeling that someone had just set off a firework inside of her.

They were always so natural and easy together that more often than not, they came less than a few seconds apart, both with the crushing force of the most powerful sensation imaginable. Draco had long since memorized every inch of her body and knew exactly where to touch her and when, as though he was reading her mind rather than resorting to the blind groping that Ginny had been so accustomed to before him.

Ginny always felt that something should be said after sex, some confirmation of the pleasure they had mutually experienced; Draco didn't. He had insisted once at the beginning of their relationship that he didn't need her to tell him how amazing he was, and when Ginny rolled her eyes, he had added as an afterthought, "Thought if you have any constructive criticism, let me know."

He had waited.

"You really do have a swelled head, don't you?" Ginny had said dryly.

"Somewhat," he had responded rather cheerfully. "Let's have it, Red. Anything I should work out on my own?"

"No," Ginny had sighed. "I know that you know it, but I'm just going to confirm. You are absolutely amazing."

"I know," he teased. "That's not going to change. "

Before she could stop herself, Ginny had blurted out, "What about me?"

He had surveyed her in amusement as she blushed crimson. "Let me put it this way," he had said with a grin. "I didn't have to teach you much."

This, she maintained, was likely the highest compliment on her sexual prowess he was every going to give her straight out.

That had been the most intimate pillow talk they had had to date, but Draco seemed now to sense that Ginny was teetering on the edge of speaking once more as they lay together. As she opened her mouth to say something, though she wasn't entirely sure what, he merely bent his head down and covered it with his own, kissing her lips until she was dizzy and breathless.

"Where were you at dinner?" she whispered when he pulled away.

"Jealous, are you?"

She ignored this. "I want to know, Draco."

He raised an eyebrow. "It's Saturday," he said. "Meeting with Hooch. You know...the duty as Quidditch captain I have been fulfilling every weekend of the year?"

Ginny flushed. "Oh," she said, feeling slow and stupid. "I forgot."

"Silly woman," he teased, and she opened her mouth to say something else, but he interrupted her with a kiss again, and she didn't fight against it.

"'Night, Weasley," he said in his lazy drawl, turning on his side so that he faced her still, his eyes closed. Ginny sighed and rolled over so she was facing away from him. She wasn't sure what she had expected him to do, when she so clearly wanted to say something meaningful, something that he hated. The 'L' word, not for the first time, was hovering on the tip of her tongue, but she knew better than to open that issue up. It was an unsaid rule between them...the 'L' word wasn't part of their world together.

Almost as though he could sense her disquieted emotions, Ginny felt his arms come around her waist to caress her bare stomach. Draco pressed his lips to her shoulder and she gave an inaudible sigh of absolute contentment. Did it really matter if she voiced her feelings? she thought to herself as she lay, eyes open, in his arms. The unspoken words meant nothing when compared to their physical chemistry. It was this chemistry that had brought them together...why did it need to get more complicated than that?

Sex is the easy part, Ginny mused. It's when the sex becomes serious that things start getting difficult.

Why did things need to get difficult when they were happy as they were? They weren't together to fall in love; they were together to make it.

For the first time ever, Ginny found herself sleepless in Draco's arms. Even when he drifted off, his breathing growing slow and steady, she lay awake for a very long time. When she finally slipped off to sleep after what seemed like hours and hours, she slept restlessly, dreaming of Colin and Honeydukes, Exploding Snap and never-ending Potions essays.

When Draco woke up on Sunday morning, his watch on the floor read 7:09 and he was alone.


End file.
